


KITTY PRYDE AND THE ABSOLUTELY NORMAL, TOTALLY  NON-MUTANT SUMMER CAMP

by blissey



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/F, F/M, Found Family, M/M, Mentioned: Emma Frost; Destiny; Bishop; Cecilia Reyes, Mentions of homophobia, Minor characters: Tabitha Smith; Blob; Avalanche; Monet St. Croix; Blink; Jamie Madrox; Pyro, black!darkholme family, black!gambit, mentions of trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissey/pseuds/blissey
Summary: Kurt’s tail flicked him in the back of the head, and Bobby fell off the bench with a jolt. “My talents are wasted here,” he whinged.“They are most certainly not wasted,” announced Kitty, “as I have a grand plan for this year.”Even Jubes shut up and raised an eyebrow at Kitty, “do tell.”“This is going to be the year we break Scott for good.”Kurt sighed, “good lord.”Bobby gasped, fanning his face, “taking the lord’s name in vain? Kurt, I didn’t think you had it in you!”





	1. Week One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi.  
> This is based on a fantastic series of drawings by [@pencilscratchins](http://pencilscratchins.tumblr.com/) on tungle dot hell, as well as [‘Long Live Living (If Living Can Be Like This),’](http://archiveofourown.org/works/315289/chapters/505632) which is quite possibly my favourite piece on this whole archive. A lot of inspiration came from my own time at summer camp, as well as my time working at a Ren Fest and being with a group of found-family. In addition, the roster for this work is a little all over the place, drawing from X-Men: Evolution and good ol’ fashioned X-Comics.  
> Some notes before I begin:  
> 1\. My characterizations are based on collective canon, comic personalities, and general fanon. If you’re looking for a Fassbender / McAvoy meet-cute or the movie personalities in general, you may be a bit disappointed.  
> 2\. Following on this note, Scott is the older Summers brother. None of that movie bullshit in my house. Also: Mystique is a cunt. I love her, but boy is she a bad mom.  
> 3\. No homophobia or abuse takes place within the narrative, but it is referenced. Rogue goes into depth about how Mystique abused her, but nothing happens on-screen. (Do I call it ‘on-screen?’ On-page? Whatever.)  
> 4\. Also, there is no graphic Rogan (Rogue/Logan) in this story, but it is slightly alluded to. I want to make it very clear that movie!Rogan is disgusting, and that my choice to include their friendship comes from the comics (if you don’t know about the iconic panel where Logan saves Rogue by kissing her, I suggest reading Rogue’s introduction arc. It’s good shit. It starts in Uncanny X-Men #158 and she joins the team in the 170s).  
> 5\. One last thing: this doesn’t really fit in completely with @pencilscratchins’ Camp AU - hers is more movie, while mine is more XME and comic.

Dishing out watermelon slices, Kitty breathed in the New York air - it was calm up here, fresh and serene all year round. In the year since last year’s camp escapades, Jubilation had shaved her head into a cute pixie cut, Bobby had mastered ice-sculpting, and Kurt had moved out with Rogue.

“The doors to our home are always open,” Kurt told Bobby, grabbing a watermelon quarter from Kitty’s platter. “I’m very serious. If anything ever happens, either about the mutant thing or -”

“‘The gay thing, call us and we’ll come get you.’” Bobby rolled his eyes, “yeah, I get it, mom.”

Jubes ran a hand through her hair, still babbling about the cut - “I’m serious you guys, it’s all the rage in LA, but I don’t know if it suits my face? I look like a toddler. A boy toddler.”

Kurt turned to face her, “I didn’t know boy toddlers wore sparkly pink lip-gloss.”

She sighed, draping her hand over her brow as if she was a heroine in a 1940’s crime flick. “How you wound me, elf.”

He spat a seed at her, prompting Jubes to yowl and swat at her face. “You’re disgusting!”

“You’re a glorified mallrat,” Kitty pointed out, “and you live in LA. You must get disgusted every time you leave the apartment, if a watermelon seed is too much to handle.”

“Yeah, and Bobby here is from Boise, Idaho, or whatever” (“I’m from Long Island,” Bobby said.) “and he still turned out disgustingly gay. Like, twink central. As in, I’m submitting him to Drag Race next cycle.”

Kitty spat out her water, howling. “Don’t do that. He’ll try to poach your makeup for drag.”

“I am a good, all-American teenager, I’ll have you know.” He then froze Jubilation’s water as she was drinking from it.

Kurt’s tail flicked him in the back of the head, and Bobby fell off the bench with a jolt. “My talents are wasted here,” he whinged.

“They are most certainly not wasted,” announced Kitty, “as I have a grand plan for this year.”

Even Jubes shut up and raised an eyebrow at Kitty, “do tell.”

“This is going to be the year we break Scott for good.”

Kurt sighed, “good lord.”

Bobby gasped, fanning his face, “taking the lord’s name in vain? Kurt, I didn’t think you had it in you!”

“Think about it, guys,” Kitty persisted, “this is our last year as campers and Scott’s first as counselor. We finally have power over him.”

Jubes spoke up, “I’m pretty sure it’s exactly the opposite.”

“And you would be wrong, young padawan.” (Jubes rolled her eyes, “you’re a dweeb.”) “As campers, he would tattle on us every time we pranked him. Who is he going to tattle to now - himself?” Kitty nodded, in agreement with herself. “It is my personal mission to break his cheerful camp-loving facade for good. I know there’s an angsty, pimply teenager in there somewhere.”

“Actually,” Bobby said, “you’re thinking of Warren.” Jubes snickered.

“It’s cleared up since I told him Dial bar soap was making it worse. Warren uses The Body Shop now.” Kitty continued, “skincare aside, we can mess with him at levels never before seen. I heard from a little birdy named Jean that he’s bitter she got promoted to Senior Counselor when he’s older than her, so we already have a fracture to exploit.”

“Isn’t this a little cruel?” Asked Kurt, tossing his watermelon rind to the forest.

“Come on,” Kitty insisted, “the worst we’ll be doing is like - doing the feather and shaving cream thing. I don’t know. All I know is that we have a way in, and we’re going to break him.”

Jubes whistled, “you’re cruel, Pryde. I love it.”

Kitty finished off her watermelon, chucking it into the pile the quartet had slowly been making. “Let’s get changed and drive up there.”

Kurt sighed, “I still can’t believe you actually passed your driving test.”

⭙

When Kitty finally phased back outside, she was met with Kurt, doubled over laughing, and Jubilation shouting at Bobby.

“It’s hideous!” She cried, “it’s a crime against nature. I hope ‘Mara burns it off of you.”

“Woah now,” Kitty strolled in, “what are we burning?”

Bobby shot her a grin before turning to show his back and - oy gevalt. It was glorious.

Bobby - that sweet, sweet, Midwest son of a gun - had bedazzled two phrases onto the back of his camp uniform: the first, written in huge, square, blue rhinestones, said in all capitals ‘LONG ISLAND BAD BOYZ.’ With a ‘z.’

“I told you guys I was from Long Island.” He said, triumphant.

“Bedazzling does not a truth make,” Kitty declared. “Turn back around.”

He did, and Kitty read the second phrase: it was written in smaller, blood red rhinestones, but gaudy nonetheless. “‘Jimmy Buffett is my dad.’ Well said, Bobby, well said.”

Jubes let out a cry of defeat, falling dramatically onto Kurt, who caught her and fanned her forehead. “I can’t believe I’m going to be seen with you trainwrecks.”

The drive further upstate was calm, punctuated by an hour-long Gorillaz sing-a-long and Kurt loudly whining about how Kitty’s car wasn’t tail-accessible.

“Xavier’s Camp for Gifted Youngsters,” read Jubes, looking fondly at the sign. “I can’t believe we’re almost not youngsters anymore.”

“Are you guys gonna try to be counselors?” Bobby asked.

Kitty shrugged, while Kurt nodded so much it made Kitty’s neck hurt from watching. “I wish I could be a counselor now. Helping people is just so great, yeah?”

Jubes snorted, “if you say so, elf.”

Kitty finally parked, phasing through the door and into Jean - whoops. “Jeannie!”

“Kitty!” Jean clutched her heart. “You scared me! Welcome back, cutie.”

“Oh, how you flatter me,” she laughed, launching a hug-barrage on Jean. “I’ve missed it here so much.”

Jean sighed, squeezing Kitty tight, “I know. It seems like only yesterday and five years ago, at the same time.”

“By the way,” Kitty drawled, “congratulations on the promotion.”

Jean laughed, blushing slightly. “Now who’s getting flattered?”

“Jeannie!” Jubes crawled her way from the car’s window, falling into a somersault before jumping onto her. Bobby opened the door behind her: “it was unlocked.”

Laughing, Jean ruffled Jubes’ hair, “I love the new style. Makes you look really fresh and unique!”

“You don’t think I look like a toddler?”

“Not even close,” she shook her head. “Scott looks like a toddler, with his tantrums.”

Jubilation cackled, rolling off to go terrorize someone else. Kitty bounded after her, leaving Jean to deal with Kurt and Bobby.

Goodness - the place looked exactly the same. The gravel entryway was surrounded by a tunnel of lush greenery, leading way to the large concrete pavilion, complete with the melted beam Amara had fused to it last summer. To the right of the pavilion sat the man-made lake, eerily blue and still, but plentiful with floating structures to scale and conquer. Kitty was struck with the memory of the first time Bobby had been able to make an ice bridge - what was it, three years ago? - in an effort to beat Remy to the top of the inflatable castle. The sun was shining, Ro had made lemonade for everyone, and Kitty was wearing her first bikini, ever.

To the left of the pavilion was the L-shaped swimming-pool, half of it for laps and shallow-water playing, and half for diving and other nefarious deeds. Kurt’s sister, Rogue, was up on the lifeguard stand, her wetsuit draped with a green shawl. Remy, the devil himself, was swimming laps in the pool in a last ditch effort to impress her: he’d been trying for nearly four years, and Rogue had shut him down at least forty times. Behind that lay the long field, part baseball diamond and part multi-purpose camp field (as every camp needed a field). Dandelions were just springing up, swaying happily in the soft breeze, unaware a horde of mutant teens was about to trample them.

Kitty turned to watch Jubilation try to run up the very (very) steep hill that lead to the mess hall / office / MPR / whatever-the-hell. Past the MPR was the natural lake, separating Xavier’s camp from that of his ex-husband’s (Kitty shuddered just thinking of the Brotherhood. They weren’t even a legal camp. They just hung out in a beach house the Magnus family owned). At the top of the hill stood Ro, staring fondly down at Jubes as she slid down the hill for a fourth time.

“I’ll make it one day,” she swore.

“I’m assuming the other two troublemakers are here as well?” Ro floated down to greet them, her hair glistening in the wind.

“Nice braids,” smiled Jubes, “is there gold in them?”

Ro hummed, “gift from T’Challa. It’s real gold.”

Kitty gaped, “no way. When is he proposing?”

“He already has. Thrice.” Ro answered, “I’ve said no every time.”

“Why?” Jubes asked.

Ororo smiled, “I’m happy to live with him and be his equal, but I cannot promise myself to someone. I am the weather - each breeze or typhoon may wash me away. I love him, that is true, but I will never be tied down. T’Challa understands that,” she glanced at Kitty, “but he keeps asking - he knows I cannot and will not say yes, but he asks still. Men are silly creatures.”

Jubes snorted, “true that.”

“Anyway, children,” Ro beckoned them into the MPR. “You were the last to arrive. Any idea where Kurt and Bobby may be?”

“They’re with Jean,” Kitty shrugged.

On cue, sulfur filled Kitty’s nose, and the last three popped into being. Jean coughed once, before asking, “are you sure you can’t change the smell?”

Kurt sighed, “no luck.”

“I don’t care,” said Bobby, “it’s still the coolest power ever.”

“I dunno,” Jubes fired a small firework at Bobby’s feet, causing him to yelp, “mine are pretty sweet.”

“Everyone’s powers are valuable in their own way,” Ororo preached, winking, “but mine is definitely the best.”

Kitty followed her friends to one of the crooked wooden tables - the MPR help itself up with vaulted ceilings and a strange support beam that was a little off center and painted a disgusting shade of brown-green. Up on the stage sat Xavier, his wheelchair holding a banner that said ‘WELCOME BACK, CAMPERS’ proudly, while he beamed out over the gaggle of kids.

The camp was pretty small, with only twelve campers, but rumor had it that after this year, ten new kids were en route. Cerebro, Xavier’s mutant-finding-machine, had told him so, and it must be true. Cerebro was how he found Kitty, after all. Who would have guessed that a Illinois-based Jewish girl prepping for her first summer with URJ (Union for Reform Judaism, aka the nice Jewish matchmaking summer camp) would be approached by a man in a wheelchair with the shiniest damn head she’d ever seen? Her parents were disappointed that Kitty wasn’t going to URJ (they wanted to keep goyim out of the bloodline), but supported her nonetheless.

“Good morrow!” Xavier announced, grinning. He had to polish his head. No way human skin could be that shiny. Was ridiculously reflective skin part of his mutation -

“No, Miss Pryde,” Xavier looked at her, “it is not. Whether or not I polish my head is my business, I’m afraid.”

Bobby snickered, elbowing Kitty roughly. She groaned, phasing into the table.

“Moving on,” Xavier continued, “welcome back, campers, to another fun-filled year of training and bonding! Our goal for this year is to achieve another ‘personal best’ - for those unfamiliar, this personal best could be anything from when Mr. Drake created a bridge out of ice for the first time,” (Bobby stood and bowed.) “or when Ms. Aquilla mastered her molten form.” (Across the hall, Amara blushed and shrank into her chair.)

“I am pleased to announce that we have three new staff members to introduce this year!” Xavier beamed, “although you may already know our new additions, I ask that you treat this as a new beginning for not only yourself but your peers.” He beckoned Jean up to him. “Ms. Jean Grey is joining Ororo as a Senior Counselor.”

Kitty clapped, whooping.

“Mr. Piotr Rasputin is joining us as a Junior Counselor,” Xavier waved Piotr up - he laughed heartily and flexed in an effort to show off. Across the hall, Illyana shouted something in Russian at him.

“Last but not least,” (Jubes gave a drumroll on the table.) “Mr. Scott Summers is joining us as a Junior Counselor!”

Kitty’s table jumped up, whooping in delight. Scott shot them a look, glaring.

“As per usual, we will be competing in a series of skirmishes against ourselves and eventually the Brotherhood, in an effort to be able to hone teamwork and adaptability. This brings me to my next point: teams!” Xavier clapped his hands, “here at Xavier’s Camp for Gifted Youngsters, we split our camping body into groups of four that will have a Junior Counselor assigned to them. These groups will be your family away from home, and the bonds you form here will last a lifetime.”

“With no further ado,” Xavier grinned, “let’s get to teams!”

Everyone applauded. Bobby leaned over to Kitty, “everyone wrote down Scott as their preferred counselor, right?”

Rogue stood, waving at everyone. She was gorgeous, a little more glowy than the last time Kitty had seen her, with high cheekbones and hair curling out into an afro-cloud. She smiled, showing off the gap in her teeth, “hi, y’all. My team this year is the Bobcat Squad, with Illyana, Alex Summers, Amara, and,” Rogue sighed. “Remy.”

Remy sauntered up to her, bowing deeply and kissing her gloved hand. “My pleasure, cherie.” He was wearing a purple bandana and twists, looking like Chance the Rapper met Jean Michel Basquiat.

“Save it, cajun.” Rogue rolled her eyes, leading her group over to her table.

Scott stepped up, “my team is” (he looked at his clipboard and gave a long, tired sigh.) “Bobby Drake, Kurt Wagner, Jubilation Lee, and Katherine Pryde.”

Bobby jumped on the table, hooting and hollering. “Nice going, Scooter!”

“Shut up,” said Scott. “We are Moose Squad.”

The celebration came to a crashing halt. Kitty exchanged a glance with Kurt. “Moose? Are you serious?”

Roberto d’Costa let out a howling laugh, soon joined by Remy and Piotr, that traitor. Bobby put his head in his hands. “I’m not ruining my masterpiece of a uniform by putting ‘Moose Squad’ on it.”

Piotr, still giggling, stood up to his full, towering height. “My team consists of Lorna, Warren, Alison, and Roberto. We,” he grinned, “are the Lynx Squad.”

“What!” Roared Kitty, jumping to her feet amid the laughter and applause, “they get to be ‘Bobcat’ and ‘Lynx’ and we have to be ‘Moose?’ You are so lame, Scott.”

He sighed again, “out of my control, Katherine. Anyway,” Scott whipped out his clipboard, “let’s go over the schedule.”

Jubes groaned, “straight to the boring stuff? No fun icebreakers or team building games?”

“Jubilation,” Scott said, “we’ve all known each other for five years.”

“And?” She cried, running a manicured hand through her short hair. “Anyway, Scooter, what do you think of my hair?”

“It’s,” Scott raised his eyebrows. “Nice.”

“Wow,” Jubes snorted, “way to make a girl feel good, Scott. Your fashion taste is garbage, anyway, so I’ll let it slide.”

He sputtered, “it is not.”

“It is,” Bobby cut in, “your glasses frames are black but your socks are navy. They clash.”

Scott rolled his eyes (although Kitty couldn’t see them through the glasses, she was sure of it), “ah yes. Let me match my socks to my glasses. Makes sense.”

“You laugh,” warned Bobby, “but it’s not like you’re rolling in dates with that colour combo.”

Scott turned bright red and Kitty thumped the table with laughter.

“Anyway,” he barreled on, “schedule. Breakfast starts at seven-thirty and goes until nine, but you will be there before eight thirty if I have anything to do with it.” (“Scary,” laughed Kurt.) “After breakfast, there is an hour of morning workout. That’s camp-wide, so you must be on your best behaviour, as the oldest group here.”

Jubes cackled, “yeah, like everybody looks up at us.”

“Next, you have the morning training session with Xavier and Forge. It’s a two hour block, unlike your last year.” Scott continued, “then an hour of lunch, ending at one. We have two sponsored activities and then you have an hour of free time before dinner. At dusk, we have the bonfire, and every Thursday we are going to play a camp-wide game. Got it?”

Kitty spoke up, “what size bra does Jean wear? She has this really cute green one I’ve been looking to borrow.”

Scott put his head on the table.

⭙

Kitty shook Kurt awake at six in the morning - Scooter had just left for his morning jog, and his clipboard was sitting totally unprotected on his cabinet. “Commence Operation: Destroy Scott.”

He rubbed the sleep out of his yellow eyes, “excuse me?” His accent was stronger in the mornings, while he was drowsy. Kitty nearly forgot that he wasn’t American, sometimes.

“He left his junk here,” Kitty explained, making herself at home on Kurt’s bed.

“Kätzchen,” Kurt yawned, “it’s too early for pranking.”

Jubes popped her head out of her blanket igloo, “nonsense. No such thing as too early for pranking. What are we doing?”

Kitty nodded, “that’s what I’m trying to figure out. He left his clipboard here, complete with his schedule and map, and we all know how great Scott’s sense of direction is.”

Kurt rolled back over.

Kitty barrelled on, “we can hide it, we can tape it to his bed, we can -”

Inspiration struck, and Kitty doubled over with laughter. “Oh geez.”

“What is it, Kit Kat?” Jubes had rolled out of her fortress now.

“We can,” she wiped tears away, “I can phase his clipboard into his bed.”

Jubilation howled, falling from her bunk onto the floor. “Jesus Christ of Nazareth. I love you, Kitty.”

Bobby poked his head out of his top bunk, looking at Jubes before staring over at Kitty and Kurt; “what’s going on?”

Kurt sighed into his pillow, mumbling, “Kitty is going to phase Scott’s clipboard into his bed.”

Still crying with laughter, Kitty continued, “it - it has our itinerary and the map on it, too.”

Bobby started to giggle, “can we” (he hiccupped) “can we tuck it in? So like - the pillow and blanket are phased together too?”

Joining Jubes on the floor, Kitty nodded hysterically.

“Okay, okay,” she breathed, “let’s get dressed so we can scram when Scooter gets back.”

Bobby’s uniform, as formerly described, was a trainwreck. He had gaudy floral patches sewn on, and the bedazzlement was more than even a Texan pageant mom would go for. He styled his hair into a little swoop that made him look even more midwestern. (“No, you don’t get it, I’m actually from New York.”) The front had a - seriously, Robert? - ‘Ice Ice Baby’ patch on it.

Jubes’ uniform had cute firework patches tastefully applied, accenting the large ‘JUBILEE!’ in pink on the back. She tied her shirt tails into a nice bow and cuffed her sleeves, before grabbing (literal) rose glasses. She was valley-girl extraordinaire, and fashionable too.

Kurt’s was rather sweet, with a Munich Circus pin and an iron on patch for every state he’d been to. So far, he and Rogue had covered the Southwest on their big National Park Road Trip last year, and Washington (where the Darkholmes lived) had an enamel heart pin stuck in it. Illinois had been filled in from when he visited Kitty, and New York from all the time he spent at Camp. The Camp had another heart pin on it.

Kitty’s own uniform had three different Star of David pins, complete with a her Hebrew name and a cute kitten patch that Ro and hand sewed one year.The back was a big “BEST SISTER EVER” patch Jubes had given her one year, tastefully a muted blue.

One year, when Jubes hadn’t yet figured out her style, she wore all blue makeup one day. Blue eyeshadow, mascara, highlight, glitter, lipstick. Everything. Kurt called her his sister from another mister all day, to which Rogue reminded him that Kurt doesn’t have a mister (Mystique grew herself a penis and impregnated Destiny, of course). Whether Mystique is lying about that or not, Rogue never knew.

Kurt handed Kitty the tub of curl cream, busy scrunching up his own hair. Jubes watched as Kitty liberally applied it, before scrunching and finger-combing.

“I’m happy that you have Rogue,” Jubes said, raking her fingers through her hair.

“Why?” Kurt asked, “I mean, I’m happy I have her too, but why bring it up?”

“Tell me if I’m not supposed to tell this story,” she began, “but once, two years ago, you called me in the middle of the night, crying. Mystique wanted to relax your hair, and Rogue said that it was your choice, not hers. You came to camp that year with a buzzed head. Anyway, I’m happy Rogue stuck around.”

Kurt nodded, “Rogue’s a good person.”

Kitty shook out her hair, “you guys remember that time I burnt off my hair trying to straighten it?”

Bobby choked with laughter, “no, I did not know that.”

“Jubes helped me even out the ends. A true friend, that Jubilation.”

She bowed deeply, “my pleasure, dear Katherine.”

Kitty, satisfied with her hair, grabbed Scott’s schedule off his bedside table. Sure enough, it was as boring as expected, complete with a spreadsheet (holy hell) of the combo moves each camper could perform with each other, including power ratings against each other and their heights. “Scott is such a dork - look at him, taking all this seriously. What a sweetheart.”

“It’s almost seven,” reminded Jubes, “let’s get on it!””

Kitty stepped forward, arranging the pillows into a cozy line before phasing them just a centimeter into the bed. Next was the clipboard, propped up on the pillows and prepared for a good nap. That got phased so the bottom half was inside the mattress, and the back was fused with the pillows. Bobby began to snicker, and he froze the mattress into a crispy sheet of ice.

Jubilation tucked the clipboard in, kissing it goodnight, before Kitty phased the layer of sheets into the concoction they had made.

“It’s beautiful,” Bobby wiped fake tears away. “Sleeping like a little baby.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, grabbing his rosary and wrapping the soles of his feet. “Let’s go.”

Sure enough, when Scooter walked into the mess hall, his face was as red as his glasses. Kitty almost felt bad. Almost.

⭙

The Big Mutant Showdown™, as Kitty liked to call it, was the annual tournament against the Brotherhood, the camp across the lake that Xavier’s ex-husband ran. Each camp ran a tournament of skirmishes against itself before selecting a finalist to compete in the cross-lake battle. The past four years, Wanda Maximoff’s team had won (which was total bullshit because her mutation was control over probability, so she could totally just say “the probability of my team winning is 100%” and it would happen and she’s so cheating) against the Xavier team. It had only been Kitty’s team the year after Bobby made the ice bridge - last year it was Scott, Jean, Remy, and Piotr, and the team two years ago was Piotr, Rogue, Jean, and Bishop (who was now off at college).

Kurt, Bobby, and Kitty sat in the center of the Danger Room while Jubilation paced around. “I’m so nervous. But like - a good nervous. Like a ‘we are so in-tune and totally gonna kick ass this year nervous.’”

Bobby ran a hand through his hair, “Jubes, you need to chill out.” (He then made it snow over her head.)

“Knock it off,” she continued on, “and I heard from Jean who heard from Ro that we were all getting new uniforms this year? As a final send-off? I might cry. It’s the first day back and I’m so going to cry.”

The door to the Danger Room bust open - Forge kicked his way through, hauling a covered clothes rack behind him. “Are you gossipping about me?”

Jubes shook her head, “no.”

“Yes,” said Kitty. Jubes mimed cutting Kitty’s head off.

“Gather round, gather round.” Called Forge, “you have new uniforms. Made from an ultra-light kevlar lycra blend that I made in the winter. Ororo helped me with the designs. All of them follow the same outline, but each one has a personalized touch. Why are you crying, Jubilation?”

“Because I’m a baby,” she sniffled. Kitty patted her back.

Forge whipped out a blue and white ensemble. “For Robert.”

It was baby blue, with a white inner section embroidered with ‘ICEMAN’ and the Xavier’s X logo.

Bobby crooned, “is it skintight?”

Forge nodded, “cup included.”

Bobby squealed and grabbed it, encasing himself in ice.

“Next,” Forge unveiled a pastel pink and grey version, “Jubilation.” Again, it was embroidered with ‘JUBILEE’ and the logo - Forge also pulled out a long yellow coat. “To replace the one Tabitha stole two years ago.”

Full on bawling, Jubes stepped forward and gingerly took the uniform from Forge. “Thank you so much. I’m going to wear it everyday under my civies.”

“Please don’t do that,” warned Forge, “you’ll overheat.”

“I’ll die as I lived,” Jubes nodded, “in style.”

Forge pulled out a black and red version, “for the ‘incredible Nightcrawler!’”

Kurt gasped, “it’s like the costume I wore in the Munich circus!”

“Rogue helped us design it.” Forge explained, passing it to Kurt.

“Finally,” he revealed a dark grey and yellow version, “for Katherine.”

Kitty stepped up, taking it. The material was rough and woven, slightly stretchy.

“Kitty, yours has pockets and a belt. Kurt, yours is tail-fit and has no boots, since you are anti-shoe. Bobby, yours has mica glitter in the fabric. Jubilation, you have a trench coat. Go change, all of you.”

Bobby bust out of his ice cube in costume, hands on hips. “I love it!”

Changing was quick, and for the first time, they really felt like a team.

Training was a lot of review, with team-building and trust exercises. 

The activity that afternoon was first the zip-line; Forge had built it himself, and henceforth it was fucking awesome. It stretched over the vast forest of upstate, allowing non-fliers to get a taste of the clear air up above the trivialities of human problems. It was a long climb up to the top of the tower (which swayed in the wind, much to Jubes’ absolute delight).

“This is how I’m going to die,” Jubilation exclaimed, her nails nearly drawing blood from Kitty’s hand. “From falling off a zip-line.”

“Ro is supervising,” Kitty reminded her, “in the extremely unlikely event that anyone falls (Forge built this place, after all), she’ll catch you. So will Kurt. Hell, Bobby will probably ice-bridge over to you.”

Kurt spoke up from behind them, “Jubilation, I’d have you on the ground before you could blink. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, thanks! I just won’t worry anymore.” Jubes cried, “why didn’t I think of that?”

Bobby stifled a laugh. “Scooter will cushion your fall with his not-laser eyes.”

Jubilation turned and whacked him. “Shut up, Milwaukee.” (“I’m from Long Island.”)

The top of the tower was daunting - Kitty had to admit. It was a long way down, with Ro waving at them from the bottom and Scooter reading his new clipboard. Up at the top was Bobcat, doing the mid-air obstacle course. Remy, Rogue, and Illyana cheered and whooped for Alex as he made his way across the tightrope. Just seeing them, Jubes shrieked and shut her eyes. “Nope. Uh-huh.”

Rogue greeted Moose; “hey, y’all. Here for the zip?”

Kurt nodded, bounding over to give her a huge kiss (smack) on the cheek.

“Why won’t you share with Gambit, cherie?” Remy winked at her (Kurt stiffened, and Kitty narrowed her eyes).

“A,” began Rogue, “you’re what, twelve? B, Kurt’s my baby bro. He’s special. Also, if you call yourself Gambit one more time, I’m pushing you off.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, “kinky. Also, I’m seventeen.”

Rogue shook her head, “bullshit. If you were seventeen, you’d have a semblance of maturity and common sense. You barely have a grain of each.”

“You wound me, Rogue.”

“That’s Miss Rogue, camper.”

Jubes, still attached to Kitty’s hand, peered a little over the edge. She began to pant, “I thought I could do it this year, but I can’t. Dude, this isn’t a joke. Please take me down.”

Kitty rubbed circles into Jubes’ back. “Are you sure? It’s really sturdy and fun.”

“I’m so, so sure. Kurt - Kurt, sweet, sweet Kurt, please take me down.”

Illyana brightened, “yo, Miss Rogue, if Jubilation goes down, can I do the zipline?”

Rogue waved her hand, “just Rogue for you, Yana. Yeah, sure. Remy’s done the course before. If he falls, too bad.”

Kitty stopped, “don’t you have to do the course?”

Illyana shrugged, “already did. I’m up here to catch people if they fall. It’s easier to open portals if I’m above.”

Kurt furrowed his brow, “why can’t you-”

Rogue shook her head. Kurt nodded. Kitty shrugged (they’d share if they wanted to).

Grabbing Jubes, Kurt was gone in a puff of sulfur. Illyana gave a cough, and tried to fan it away from her nose. She stepped towards Kitty, “let’s get hooked in.”

Illyana had changed a lot from last year, Kitty realised suddenly. Very suddenly.

Her hair was long and shiny, like gold thread (as it had always been), but it was braided back in two dutch braids with her bangs out of her face. She had seemingly doubled in mass, with defined muscles in her arms and legs, and the way she had tied her uniform shirt at the waist was so not regulation but Kitty did not care. She could see the barest sliver of Illyana’s stomach, and from that alone she saw the ridges of a well defined six-pack. Her thighs, thick and sun-goldened from working outside with Piotr, were doing things to Kitty’s knees. Holy fuck. Illyana got super hot, like some sort of butch Victoria’s Secret ad targeted specifically towards Katherine Pryde herself.

Illyana hooked Kitty onto the line, her fingers calloused but still somehow precise. Kitty gave her the best grin she had in her arsenal, and wondered mildly about the state of her frizzy Ashkenazi hair - whatever. It’s camp. Not all of us can have those tangle-resistant Rasputin genes.

Illyana squeezed her hand before pulling the both of them off the platform and into the air.

⭙

“Campers! I have an announcement!”

Kitty paused her game of how-long-can-I-get-crumbs-in-Kurt’s-hair-before-he-notices, and turns toward the stage, where Xavier, Jean, and Ro stood proudly.

“We, for the first time, will be having a talent show!”

There was a smattering of applause.

“It will be in two weeks time. Auditions, which are more of a content-screening process than an acute judge of talent or passion, will be next Friday. I expect absolute creativity and ingenuity! The use of powers in not only allowed, but encouraged! With our gifts, our talent show will showcase the best of every camper’s individuality.”

Kitty clapped for that one (out of the corner of her eye, Jubes ruffled her fingers through Kurt’s hair, ending her game).

“Rehearsals will be during afternoon free time the week after auditions! Thank you!”

Lorna, seemingly out of nowhere, materialized at the Moose table. “Bobby. We’ve got to do a puppet show.”

“I don’t know why, or what that means,” he said, “but I am so on-board. Puppet show. Got it.”

“Listen,” she commanded, “I make puppets out of metal, you make them out of ice. Or snow. Or whatever.”

Jubes, hearing ‘show,’ brightened. “Oh! Can I help write it? Please?’

Lorna shrugged, “I don’t care.”

“Yes,” said Bobby.

Lorna took after her father in nearly every way (including mutation). She was curt and unapologetic, speaking her mind no matter to consequences. She was act first, ask later, and always clenched her jaw. How she (the carbon copy of her father) turned out so different from her half-siblings, Kitty didn’t know.

After dinner, Kitty drew with chalk an outline around Scott’s bed. Bobby iced the area over with a generous layer, half the size of the Europa ice crust, nearly. When Slim walked in, he banged his head as he falls over. It takes skill.

⭙

Bobby dribbled straight through Kurt, before jumping up on a chuck of ice and slam dunking. Kurt ‘ported onto Bobby, tackling him onto the ground. “No powers, loser.”

“Back atcha, elf.” Bobby laughed, kicking against Kurt.

Jubes had sweat through her overpriced t-shirt, and she collapsed onto the court. “Water break.”

Bobby moved to snow over her - she yowled, “I don’t want your gross ice-cooties.”

They walked over to the water cooler, filling up bottles and chugging them. “You’ll vomit if you drink too much,” Scott weakly reminds them.

Kitty and Kurt plop down facing the swimming pool - Rogue’s scuba suit must be killing her in this weather. It’s hot, especially for up north. Remy does a backflip off the diving board, winking at Rogue on his way down. Kitty can practically taste the eye-roll she gives him. Illyana and Alex appear to be bastardizing synchronized swimming, with the way they are attempting to flail about.

Kurt’s eyes tracked the way water slid down Remy’s back. Kitty elbowed him. “Looks like the whole Darkholme family has a thing for Cajuns, huh.”

He stiffened, “Rogue and I are changing our name from Darkholme to Wagner when I turn eighteen.”

“Are you two okay?” Kitty asks, glancing at him. His fur is royal, the colour of kings and dukes of a time long past. Combined with his golden eyes and tousled hair, she can’t imagine how anyone could ever call him a demon.


	2. Week Two

As the sun dawned on the first Saturday of camp, Scott Summers had not yet cracked. Bobby had bedazzled Scott’s uniform with ‘I ♥ JEAN’ in large green, and Kitty shrunk all of his clothes (sans the bedazzled one) in the wash. Logan had found this horribly unamusing, as Scott was resigned to wearing Logan’s clothes while he waited on new uniforms.

Paddling out to catch up with Slim and Bobby, Kitty rammed her kayak into Jubes’. “Woah, my bad.”

Jubes shrieked, clutching the sides of her kayak and freezing. “Katherine Pryde. I am going to kill you.”

“Oh, Jubes, you don’t mean that.”

Jubilation tossed a plasmoid at Kitty, who yelped and instinctively phased through it, also slipping through the bottom of her kayak. “It’s on.”

Kitty phased out of her kayak and into the water, coming up under Jubes’ and grabbing her oar away. She popped up and tossed it, “Bobby! Catch!”

The oar hit Bobby in the back, and he screeched. “I hate you. I hate you.”

Scott sighed, “campers, settle down.”

Kurt chose that moment to make his dramatic entrance - he ‘ported in, kayak in tow, right on top of Bobby and Scott. “Whoops,” he shrugged, “overshot.”

He bamfed over to Jubes and Kitty, and was rewarded with Kitty splashing him; “Kit Kat! Not the fur, not the fur!”

Bobby, unable to resist a good fight, launched out of his kayak and iced his way over (Scott paddled along begrudgingly).

“The whole point of going kayaking,” Scott began, “is to be in the kayak.”

Jubes shot another plasmoid at Kitty (she went intangible and the firework hit Kurt in the shoulder). “Shit, Kurt, sorry!”

He splashed her using his tail (“not fair! he can paddle and splash and the same time! I don’t even have my oar!”), and vigorously kayaked away.

Bobby iced over, cutting off Kurt’s escape route. With a laugh, Kurt sighed, “Bobby, I’m a teleporter.”

“Yeah,” shrugged Bobby, “but I could make the lake into an ice sculpture. What would happen if you ‘ported inside ice, I wonder?”

Kurt stuck out his tongue before whacking the ice with his tail - it shuddered and cracked, and Bobby fell backwards into the lake.

Kitty hiccupped with laughter, climbing back into her boat and rowing over to grab Jubes’ oar. “Come and get it!”

Jubilation furiously paddled with her hands, a sweat breaking on her forehead.

Kitty loved them. With a blue-sky above and the deep shadows of mountains on the horizon, dusted by a layer of yellowing trees; each of her dearest friends stuck out not like a sore thumb, but like the focal points of a divine painting. From Jubilation, with her shorn pink head and angelic face, to Kurt’s ocean-blue fur and regal profile, to Bobby’s grin that jumped out of a poster promoting the American Dream. Even Scott, with his perpetual frown and clenched jaw, had a sense of power about him (beyond the literal lasers shooting from his face); or Jean, with her Renaissance curves and eyes as green as lush oceans of grass. To ‘Ro, with her golden twists and the making of a literal queen, to Forge’s weathered laugh lines and deft fingers. She loved them, and she loved it here, in the warm-yet-brisk lakeside breeze and away from the hate of humans.

Her kayak crashed into Scott’s - he tumbled over, falling into the water. “Whoops.”

He resurfaced, whipping off his glasses and shooting at the water in front of Kitty. Scott laughed, spraying her with revenge. Jubes whooped, happy Slim was joining the fray.

Across the lake sat the Brotherhood, where Wanda ‘I’m-Not-Cheating-I-Swear’ Maximoff and Pietro ‘Idiot’ Maximoff lived with Xavier’s ex-husband Magnus (their father) and Ms. Frost, a rich thirty-something who was less of a senior counselor and more of paid decoration. Kurt’s mom also worked over there (allegedly), but no Xavier camper had ever seen her across the lake.

Alas, on the shore of the Brotherhood sat the famed thief herself, Tabby Smith (who had stolen Jubes’ yellow coat two years ago). She appeared to be rolling in the mud with Mortimer Toynbee while Pietro Maximoff, counselor extraordinaire, texted away. On the volleyball court was Wanda’s squad, the pride and joy of the Brotherhood.

There was Jamie Madrox, who could make multiple copies (clones? Dupes? whatever) of himself; Clarice Ferguson, who in addition to being literally pink (pink!) could make portals; Monet St. Croix, described by Storm and Ms. Frost by quite literally being the perfect mutant (with flight telepathy, telekinesis, enhanced strength, speed, intuition, intelligence, senses, and a healing factor to boot) along with being Muslim and African (take that, white supremacy); John Allerdyce, with pyrokinesis and smartassery on his side.

Geez. Xavier’s didn’t stand a chance.

⭙

“And into down-dog,” Jean dipped, her hair catching the midday sun.

Bobby groaned, but followed her into the pose nonetheless. Kurt, a born acrobat, had his foot flat on the ground while he sank into down-dog, his spine popping with each decline.

“Now walk the dog,” Jean demonstrated, bending one knee at a time and bouncing her weight.

The world was different upside down, deduced Kitty. Kurt’s fur stood on end, his curls bouncing with each ‘walk.’

“One-legged dog, right leg up (straight!) as high as you can.”

Kurt, the madman, stuck his leg straight up, practically doing a mid-air split.

Bobby winced at him, before meagerly lifting his leg two inches from the ground.

“Now, into warrior one -”

“Clarice, look! They’re doing lakeside yoga!”

Jean groaned.

Sure enough, Monet St. Croix was hovering just off the coast of Xavier’s Camp, Clarice Ferguson on her shoulders. Toad - whoops, Mortimer - poked his head out of the water (like he was Christopher Walken on lunch break), gurgling.

Jubes stuck out her tongue, sending them a warning firework.

“Flashy!” Called Clarice, “if I wanted to see fireworks, I’d go to a Rammstein show.”

“What’re you gonna do,” jeered Monet, “make me lose my hearing?”

“I’m gonna burn that smug grin off -”

Kitty grabbed Jubes by the collar, holding her back. “Don’t sink to their level!”

“Where’s your pride, Pryde?” Called Clarice.

“That isn’t even a good joke!” Kitty yelled, standing.

Jean stood as well, “okay, that’s enough. Clarice, please go back to your shore.”

With a pop, Toad, Monet, and Clarice ‘ported a few meters back. On the Brotherhood shore, Tabby Smith and John Allerdyce seemed to be experimenting - she shot a few time-bombs into the air and John directed them around.

Monet said something to them, and Tabby began to aim the bombs at Xavier’s shore. “Too chicken?” Monet called, “come and get us, losers!”

Bobby leapt to his feet and started icing in their direction - Kurt grabbed Jubes and Kitty and ‘ported them to the middle of the lake, Kitty keeping them on the surface of the water.

Jubes, catching a ride with Bobby, began to shoot plasmoids at the Brotherhood.

John batted them back towards Jubes (Bobby deflected them), “I control fire, you idiots!”

Bobby iced up to John and Clarice, grabbing them and tossing them to Kurt, who dunked them. Bobby made a grab for Tabby when -

Everything froze, a little too warm and a little too red.

Wanda Maximoff herself stepped onto Bobby’s ice bridge, and primly walked over to Jean. “Sorry about this.”

Wanda’s hair was shorn on the sides, long and unruly on the top. Red accents peeked through her mane of black curls, accenting her many rings and necklaces. She wore a duster with a perpetually popped collar, but it actually looked cool on her. See, it was easy to hate Wanda Maximoff from a distance, but once you met her, she was just so dang nice. Totally cheating, though.

Jean laughed nervously - woah, woah, what? Jean? Nervous?

“Oh, it’s alright.” Jean smiled, “kids are hard. To deal with. Sometimes.”

“Holy shit,” Kitty turned to Jubes, “Jean has a crush on Wanda ‘not-cheating’ Maximoff.”

“It’s our fault, really. Pietro and I should be keeping them on a tighter leash. It’s something my abba and I fight about - he thinks the kids should be learning their own lessons, but I think we should be a guiding hand.”

“Abba?” Asked Jean, even though Kitty knew damn well that Jean was semi-familiar with Yiddish.

“Oh!” Wanda laughed, her eyes crinkling. “It’s what Pietro and I call our father. It’s abba or baba, and he says baba makes him feel old.”

“Jean knows some Yiddish, right?” Jubes leaned closer to Kitty, “is Jean pretending not to know Judaism so she can talk to Wanda?”

“It appears so.” Kitty shook her head. “Who’s going to tell Scott?”

 

⭙

When Kitty Pryde woke up the next morning, the Brotherhood had been busy.

Pietro Maximoff and his campers had the brilliant idea to prank Moose Squad in retribution for dunking them in the lake yesterday. The plan was simple - fill their cabin with shaving cream and whipped cream. The mixture made everything sticky and poisonous at the same time (genius, really), and was going to be a bitch to clean out.

Because Camp Xavier spent all its money on ‘scholarships’ for the kids, the camp couldn’t afford to name the cabins every year (or at all). So, the Brotherhood, in all their beautiful, beautiful glory, may have filled the wrong cabin with cream, effectively amping up the hatred Xavier’s had for them.

Kitty Pryde woke up to Warren Worthington III (the acne faced bastard) and Alison Blaire shrieking in a strange, blood-curdling harmony. Their entire cabin had been violated (Brotherhood Style), with the shaving cream mixture even getting tangled up in Alison’s hair.

“This stuff is going to break me out,” whined Warren. Kitty shrugged in agreement, cleaning the corners of his bedframe (since Moose were the ones the attack was intended for, it really was the least they could do to help clean up).

“Get over it,” spat Lorna Dane.

“Lorna!” Chastised Piotr, “we are a family. Even though you were born with perfect skin like your father’s, Warren takes skincare very seriously and you should not make fun of him for that.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes.

“Guys!” Cried Jubes, “I have an idea.”

“Is it a good one?” Alison asked.

“Still up for debate. Anyway,” Jubes continued, “we can both get the Brotherhood back tonight. Team up. Moose and Lynx. One nation, indivisible, under the gods. Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed Kurt.

“But anyway,” Jubes continued, “we can Parent-Trap them. Buckets of honey, water, Walmart-brand maple syrup, you name it.”

“I’m in,” Lorna announced, standing. “Let’s go.”

Kitty spoke up, “Lorna, let’s wait until sundown.”

“Boring.”

“I absolutely do not condone this sort of misbehaviour,” Piotr said, cleaning some shaving cream out of a corner, “but if I were to turn a blind eye, the buckets and rope would be in the MPR’s storage closet with the mops.”

Kurt nodded, “we will set a good example for the younger campers and absolutely not prank the Brotherhood.” He winked (but with the eye facing Piotr, not the eye facing Kitty).

And henceforth, the pranking began.

That night, Kitty smuggled buckets and rope out of the closet while Bobby iced a path across the lake. Alison Blaire had dressed down to her least eye-catching clothes (a salmon jumpsuit with a peplum), while Lorna had encased herself entirely in metal (“It’s to protect my identity,” she said. “You are the only mutant besides Mags that can bend metal,” Kurt pointed out.).

Warren scouted up above, while Jubes and Bobby ran the assembly line; Bobby would fill the bucket and Jubes would rope it. Alison and Roberto stood lookout, while Kitty, Kurt, and Lorna set the trap.

Alison’s bucket was filled with a glitter blend she made herself (or so she boasted). It was mica and chunky sequins, as well as cosmetic grade glitter (the kind that never leaves). Warren’s was full of honey and salt, Roberto’s full of tomato paste, and the remainder of the buckets were filled with water or ice.

Lorna carefully placed each bucket in place, with Kitty supervising. Alas. It was done.

 

⭙

“It has come to my attention that a camper was injured at the Brotherhood this morning. Mr. Eisenhart gave me a phone call this morning reporting that one of his campers was hit in the head with roughly ten pounds of metal and water.” Xavier was staring directly into Kitty’s soul.

“Holy shit,” Jubes laughed, “did Lorna forget to attach the ropes to the wall?”

From across the MPR came: “what? I had to do more work than getting them onto the doorframe?”

“Holy shit,” Kitty whispered, “we fucking killed a camper.”

“Luckily, Mr. Dukes is unharmed,” (“It was Blob. We’re fine.”) “but this behavior is not tolerable. We, as a camp, need to avoid legal action at all costs. Not only is it somewhat illegal to have a camp that exclusively services mutants, Logan doesn’t have a green card. We also don’t pay him with money. It’s mainly real estate and cigars. Cuban cigars, actually, which are also illegal. I offered him food but he likes to hunt his own.” Xaiver shook his head, “I digress. We are extremely lucky that Mr. Dukes is not pressing charges. We need to be the bigger mutant and remain diligent in the face of oppression - we must stand tall and never surrender!”

“I think Xaiver forgot what he was talking about,” Bobby whispered.

Kitty tuned the rest of the speech out, looking at the Senior counselors. God - Forge was checking Ororo out. Gross. To be fair, Ro was smokin hot, but Forge’s weird Gomez Addams stache was just that - weird. Jean was humming and staring out the window (Big Mood), and Logan -

“Oh my god,” Kitty choked out, “Logan’s wearing jeans under his camp shorts.”

“No fucking way,” said Bobby, standing up to get a better view.

“Something you’d like to share, Mr. Drake?” Xaiver asked, stifling a laugh. He had no doubt just noticed Logan’s outfit too.

“Logan - ‘scuse me, Mr. Logan’s wearing jeans under his uniform shorts!”

On cue, every head in the MPR whipped around to look at him. He shrugged. “I like the feeling of denim on my skin.”

“Logan,” Jeannie started, “you do know that you aren’t actually a counselor. You can wear whatever you want.”

“Huh.” He said. Rogue’s loud, full body laughter carried across the hall. Kitty loved these goons.

⭙

 

Every Thursday night, the entire camp got together and had a big bonfire, complete with marshmallows and scary stories. According to Xavier, it was a good chance to get to know campers who weren’t in your cabin (it was actually an excuse for him to go to bed early while Ro and Forge supervised for once). The real fun came after the bonfire - last week, it was a baseball game with campers versus counselors (plus Forge and Logan). (Kurt and Kitty, as always, fucking destroyed the counselors.)

This week, Rogue seemed to be thrumming with anticipation, which could only mean one thing - “my favourite game,” she yelled, “Capture the Flag!”

Kitty hugged Scott and the rest of the gang close to her. “Here’s the plan. Everyone is going to think that I’m going on the offensive, which I really should be, since I’m awesome. Anyway, Bobby, you are gonna go get Bobcat’s flag. I predict Illyana will try to hide it in Limbo so we need to wait for Logan to tell her she can’t do that, and then you and Jubes roll in and steal that shit. Scott and Kurt, you guys are gonna be on defense detail. I’m going for Lynx. They are the weakest so I can go solo.”

“Never underestimate your enemies,” Scott preached.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Jubes. “Lynx is still going through puberty. They have a lot on their minds.”

“Yeah, what is Alison gonna do, sing at me?”

Scott huffed. “That is a vast oversimplification of her powers and of her usefulness to the team and you know it.”

Kitty snorted. “Anyway. Go team!”

The game was afoot - Kurt bamfed Bobby and Jubes behind where they assumed Illyana would be hiding before rushing back and dropping Kitty off to the East.  
Xavier’s Camp for Gifted Youngsters was bordered by a vast forest and the lake. The forest stretched out for seemingly miles - rumor has is that Logan lives in a cabin he made by hand out here somewhere. Deep in the foliage, Kitty could believe it. He was a nature man, forged from Canadian snow and old mountains. If he told Kitty he was a dwarf, Kitty would believe it in a heartbeat. Move over, Gimli. Logan’s the new dwarf in town.

Busy phasing through the trees, Kitty ran straight through none other than Illyana Rasputin.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a pretty place like this?” Kitty attempted a casual lean, but phased into the tree instead. Smooth, Pryde.

Illyana huffed, “Forge said I couldn’t hide the flag in Limbo” (“I knew it,” Kitty fist pumped.) “so Remy sent me on offense.”

Wait. Pump those brakes. “You listen to Remy?” Kitty asked, incredulous.

“Sometimes,” Yana shrugged, “his ideas are only shitty like, half the time.”

“So who’s on defense? Let me guess, is it Remy and Rogue?”

Illyana laughed, “are you using me to get to my team’s strategy?” (Kittty shrugged.) “But no, Rogue shut that down. I guess she didn’t want to have to reject Remy again. It’s just Rogue on defense.”

“So it’s the other three all on offense?”

Illyana leaned back onto a tree (how come when she leaned it looked super smooth and hot?), “technically, Alex is supposed to be with me, but he was annoying me. So I ditched him.”

“Is he in Limbo? Please tell me he’s in Limbo. My Summers-hating heart would love it if he’s in Limbo.”

“If I knew tormenting Summers’ was the way to your heart, Katya, I would have trapped both of them in Limbo by now.”

Hooooooooooly fuck. Foly huck. Was Illyana Rasputin flirting with Kitty? With HER? The biggest bisaster (bi disaster) since Bishop’s coming out?

“Ooh,” Kitty was bright red, “Katya. That’s nice.”

“It’s how you say Kitty in Russian. Well, it’s how you shorten Katerina in Russian.” Illyana hit Kitty with a blinding white grin and hooooooo boy Kitty’s knees were weak.  
Off in the distance, Kitty heard Bobby and Jubilee screaming at full volume. That was either very good or very very bad. Illyana whipped around, her eyes narrowing. “Good form, Pryde. Distract the teleporter while your two flashy henchmen cause a diversion?”

Kitty gave a big wink. “I’ll pretend that was my plan all along, Rasputin.”

With that, Kitty took off running through the trees, towards where she heard the loud voices of tweens arguing.

“I’m just saying, it’s dumb for me to be guarding. I can fly.” Warren whinged.

“Shut up.” Said Lorna.

Warren kept whining and kept whining and - there! Kitty’s opening.

As Lorna turned to loudly bitch at Warren, Kitty ran in, grabbed their flag, jammed it into her fanny pack, and took off running back towards Kurt.

“Hey, Lorna?”

“What is it, you pathetic waste of space?”

“Hey - that’s not very nice. I’m telling Piotr.”

“Like I care.”

“Anyway, Lorna, our flag’s gone.”

“You let them get our flag?!”

“Hey! You were distracting me!”

As the arguing of tweens faded into the white noise of the forest, Kitty heard a very gay sounding yelp -

In the clearing stood Illyana, her sword out and pointed at Bobby while Jubilee was football-tucked under one of her arms. “My flag, if you would.”

Bobby held the aforementioned flag above his head in a taunt, waving it back and forth. “Stay back, or I’ll freeze you!”

“If you do that, Jubilation is gonna have a pretty bad time! I know that she’s terrified of heights, and I’m a teleporter with no sense of self preservation!”

Jubes caught Kitty’s eye and nodded.

Jubes fired some plasmoids at Illyana’s feet, causing her to start, and while she was distracted, Kitty raced in and grabbed the flag out of Bobby’s hands. “Seeya, losers!”

Jubes whooped, “run, Pryde, run!”

Sure enough, Kurt was waiting for Kitty at their flag while Scott fought off Alison and Remy. Kitty skidded to their flag, waving the other two in her hands as she made her grand entrance. “C’est la vie, fuckers!”

Scott grabbed his whistle (god, the nerd) and puffed into it, hard. At the shrill sound, all the campers stopped and sighed in unison. Kitty screeched at the top of her lungs: “we did it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooooo boy it took a year but i wrote another chapter. message me on tumblr @tabithasmith for commission info

**Author's Note:**

> My commissions are now open! [Click here](http://psylocke.co.vu/post/163229382900/writing-commissions-now-open) to see more. I'm trying to get out of a shitty home situation so help a sis out


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